Fire and Ice
by Lehua
Summary: BV AU. Based on the Hawaiian Myth of 'Pele and Kamapua'a.'
1. Chapter 1

Fire and Ice  
By: Lehua

Disclaimer: DBZ is not mine, so I do not own these characters. This fic was originally posted on http://www.adimra. as a contest entrance for August 11, 2001. I didn't finish it on time so it wasn't voted on. The site has since stopped being updated, but there are some awesome stories on it.

Based on the Hawaiian Myth of 'Pele and Kamapua'a.'

**Chapter 1**

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Some say the world will end in fire,  
Some say ice.  
From what I've tasted of desire  
I hold with those who favor fire.  
But if it had to perish twice,  
I think I know enough of hate  
To say that for destruction ice  
Is also great  
And would suffice.

-Robert Frost

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"What have you done?" the woman asked as she gazed her husband's remains in horror.

"Finishing what you started years ago, Mother," Vegeta said cruelly to the goddess.

"I have nothing to do with your father's death," she said.

"You have everything to do with Father's death," he sneered. "Because of you he wouldn't accept me as his son."

"That's not true," she said.

"O, it isn't? Then why did he hate me? Why did he scorn and mock me? Why did he just try to have me killed?" Vegeta said, his voice rising.

"You were the one who ravaged his lands!" the goddess yelled.

"Because of your actions," Vegeta said. He turned his back on her and started to walk away.

"Don't you dare walk away from me." the goddess said, her voice hinting at anger.

Vegeta gave her a sideways look through his cold ebony eyes. "Why? You walked away from me all of my life."

He turned his back on her, never to set foot in her house again.

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"King Vegeta! We have the ruler of this planet. What would you like us to do with her?" Kakkarot asked Vegeta as he knelt before him, his hand poised in front of his heart in obedience.

"Her?" Vegeta questioned. He'd never run into a female ruler.

"Yes: her."

Vegeta had been growing bored lately from the continual planet hopping. He had much of the universe under his thumb already. This ruler might be of some use for his amusement. "Bring her to me," he said to Kakkarot, dismissing him with a wave of his hand.

Kakkarot nodded and left the room, only to bring back a loud-mouthed woman who spat out curses like blood coursing through a living body's veins. Vegeta watched amused as Kakkarot struggled with her. She was feisty. Her long blue hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall, and her temper was enchanting. She had a single flower behind her ear, and it fell to the ground as she fought. He laughed aloud as he watched the spectacle.

She stopped her cursing in mid-sentence and looked at him with her ocean deep blue eyes. Vegeta grinned at her and assumed his air of superiority. "Welcome to my empire."

Her eyes filled with contempt. She spat in his direction. "Your empire my ass. We will never bow down to you." She glared at him, her eyes a raging hurricane.

Vegeta noticed the fallen flower on the floor. He got up from his throne and walked down to it. It had a strong, fresh smell. He picked it up and then looked her straight in the eye. He pushed the flower behind her ear. "I believe you dropped this."

She shook her head fiercely, dislodging the flower. It fell to the floor again. He picked it up from the floor and held it lightly in his hand. And then he crushed it, right in front of her eyes. "This is your kingdom," he said softly to her, watching her eyes fill with hate.

He walked back to his throne and sat down. "Introduce us, Kakkarot."

"My King, this is Bulma, the ruler of Earth. Her people claim that she has power over the volcanoes," Kakkarot said, pushing Bulma down in a forced bow.

Vegeta nodded.

"And this is King Vegeta, ruler of the universe," Kakkarot said to Bulma.

Bulma continued to glare at Vegeta. "You will never crush our spirit. We will fight back."

Vegeta smirked at her. "It only makes the planet hopping more interesting when the people fight against me."

Bulma paled visibly.

Vegeta got up from his throne again and walked down to her. "Let her go, and leave us," he directed to Kakkarot. Kakkarot bowed and left them.

Bulma stood like a caged animal as Vegeta circled her. Vegeta's eyes raked over her body, taking in every inch of her. She was breathtaking. In all his journeys across the universe he had never met a woman as beautiful as she. She was shaped as only a woman could be—her curves sensuous and alluring. Her skin was smooth and crystal clear. Her lips were a dark red and inviting. He was tempted to taste her, but refrained himself from doing so.

What caught him most was her fire. No one had ever defied him since the death of his father for fear of death. But here this woman stood, defiance written on her mind, body, and soul. She stood caged yet defiant before him. She could very well be the goddess of the volcanoes as the people seemed to think, because she raged against him as one.

Vegeta stepped close to her, inhaling her scent. She was . . . untouched. This excited him more. He could feel his body starting to respond to her scent. He shook himself and walked back to his throne.

"Should I keep you alive?" he asked her once he was seated.

"No," she spoke plainly.

"Why?" he asked, interested in what she would say.

"Because I will make sure I make the rest of your pitiful life a living hell," she threatened through clenched teeth.

"Is that a threat?" he asked her, smirking, his dark eyes sparkling.

She leaned toward him. "No, it's a promise."

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	2. Chapter 2

Fire and Ice  
By: Lehua

Disclaimer: DBZ is not mine, so I do not own these characters. This fic was originally posted on http://www.adimra. as a contest entrance for August 11, 2001. I didn't finish it on time so it wasn't voted on. The site has since stopped being updated, but there are some awesome stories on it.

Based on the Hawaiian Myth of 'Pele and Kamapua'a.'

**Chapter 2**

Bulma gazed around her cell morosely. How could she have let herself get into this situation? She should have just called upon the volcano to save her; she was pretty sure Kilauea would have come to her aid. But no, she didn't, and now she was stuck in the Monkey King's dungeon. O Kane, why did she have to go with her gut instead of her head? Well, she knew better next time . . . if there ever was a next time. Her future seemed bleak, especially if she were to become a slave for the Monkey King.

Bulma shuddered at the thought. She could still feel his gaze on her face and body as he circled her, like he was the hunter come to claim his prey and prize. But it was more than that. She saw the lust in his eyes; the drive to break her mind, body, and soul; the intense pleasure he got when she fought him. She was sure she felt his gloved hand brush her body, as if checking to make sure she was real.

Bulma almost couldn't believe that he was real. Stories had been coming from travelers across space that there was a new reigning King, that the former King had been destroyed by his son, and now the son was basically on a rampage across the stars claiming ever planet across the universe. Bulma didn't let it concern her too much because Earth was such a small planet and she was sure it would have been overlooked, which it was the first time around. But then when the Monkey King decided to go back to his own planet, he had stopped to take over Earth too suddenly. She had felt that Kane was punishing her for some unknown reason: she'd done nothing to him so why was he letting this happen? Then again, why did the other gods of planets let their footstools be taken over so quickly and painfully in some cases? Were they all banding together to get back at their own peoples? Was it some kind of game for them? Bulma couldn't understand the logic behind it. Why let your planet get captured?

Bulma thoughts were interrupted by a screeching that came from down the hall from her cell. She got up from the floor and walked to the energy barrier and tried to see what was happening as best as she could.

It was Chichi, her sister, and she was fighting the one named Kakkarot as a storm rages against a reef. And she seemed to be losing, because Kakkarot just stared at her, perplexed but amused, and pushed her down the hall toward Bulma.

"Chichi, stop," Bulma commanded the raven haired girl.

Chichi immediately stopped her protests and walked sullenly down the hallway toward Bulma. Kakkarot was so stunned at the change in the girl that he had to run down the hall after her, having stopped from the shock. He pressed the code for the barrier and the barrier immediately shut down.

Bulma beckoned Chichi to come into the cell with her. Chichi walked in, her eyes averted to the floor, and Kakkarot put up the barrier again. He stared at the two women for a moment, and then left with a confused looked on his face. Bulma watched him go out of the corner of her eye, smirking.

Bulma turned her gaze on Chichi. "They got you too," she stated.

Chichi nodded, lifting her head up high. "At least I fought with what I had. You just went kicking and screaming," Chichi said.

Bulma looked at her, vaguely amuse at her sisters tone. "I felt I shouldn't call on Kilauea, at least not yet." Bulma sat back on the floor, her head falling into her hands. "Do you think it was easy not using my power at the first sign of danger? I felt like I had betrayed by peoples, my land . . . Kane."

"You have," Chichi spat at her.

Bulma let her head fall back, her blue eyes upon the ceiling. She looked at Chichi again, her eyes totally serious. "You know, I had this feeling that even if I had called on Kilauea, she wouldn't have answered my call."

Chichi looked at her, shocked. "Kilauea? I highly doubt it. She would throw herself into the ocean for you if you asked."

Bulma smiled at her sourly. "I know that much. But this time I'm sure she would have disobeyed me."

"Are you telling the truth, or are you just trying to make yourself feel better?"

Bulma looked down at the floor, unsure of how to tell her wild sister that what she was saying was true. She closed her eyes a moment and expanded her awareness of her surroundings. Underneath her lay the ship, then dirt, rock, lava rock, and . . . lava. Kilauea's life lay beneath them, teeming in her hot lava roads deep inside the earth. "Do you feel that?" Bulma said to Chichi, her eyes still closed.

Chichi paused for a long moment, searching out what her sister felt, and then she felt it, the lava flow beneath them. She grunted her acknowledgment.

"Now," Bulma said, her tone very serious. "If Kilauea will obey my call, then she will come up through the lava rock, rock, dirt, and the ship, and carry us away from here."

They waited in silence for several minutes, both feeling the rage of Kilauea as she pushed against the walls vainly, trying to reach her mistress. Bulma opened her eyes after a time, and sighed.

Chichi slowly opened her eyes also and looked sadly at her sister. "She wanted to come, but something stopped her," she said softly, sorrowfully.

Bulma nodded gravely. "Kane stopped her."

Chichi's eyes went wide. "But why?"

"There is a bigger picture here that none of us are seeing."

"But, when I called upon the sea, she came to me," Chichi said, not understanding.

Bulma smirked softly to herself. "It's not your fate: it's mine entwined with the Monkey King's . . . with Vegeta's."

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FYI

Kane: He's basically the father of the Hawaiian gods. He and Na Wahine mated spiritually and created the other gods.

Pele: She is the goddess of the volcano.

Kilauea: She is a volcano on the island of Hawaii-- The Big Island.

Bulma is Pele, and Chichi was just an after thought. I don't know what each of Pele's sister's control, but for the sake of the story, Chichi will control the ocean/sea.

More to come . . . .


	3. Chapter 3

Fire and Ice  
By: Lehua

Disclaimer: DBZ is not mine, so I do not own these characters. This fic was originally posted on http://www.adimra. as a contest entrance for August 11, 2001. I didn't finish it on time so it wasn't voted on. The site has since stopped being updated, but there are some awesome stories on it.

Based on the Hawaiian Myth of 'Pele and Kamapua'a.'

**Chapter 3**

Vegeta's bored eyes poured over the vast lush landscape before him. Now what was he suppose to do? The Earth had been taken already, and quite easily too. The promise of the blue-haired goddess had not come to fruition: her people had given up quite easily. Of course, there was that one upset in the takeover of the Earth: one woman had used the sea against them. But even she was soon conquered. "Weak race," he muttered as he closed the balcony doors to cut off the last rays of light as they settled upon the newly acquired land, _his_ newly acquired land.

He turned and walked a circuit around his room. Upon his arrival on this planet his scouts had seen and secured this palace that stood at the edge of a cliff overlooking a green valley. It was set against the mountain, and it was positioned so that it used the sun's light to the greatest advantage in every room. It was a beautiful house set in the best location, and he had to grudgingly admit that not even his architects could come close to creating such beauty—though he would never admit it out loud. The walls of his chamber were decorated lavishly with paintings of the current monarchy and those of the past. He closely scrutinized each painting, noting the clear resemblance of each pair or rulers, the king and queen. His stomach turned as the revelation hit his mind: incest. It was clear to him that they had interbred among each other, most likely trying to keep the blood pure. The practice was common among many of the planets he'd conquered, but the thought still made him squirm. He couldn't imagine having to mate with his sister, if he ever had one.

He came to the last picture and stared at it awed. There she was: the beauty with the blue hair. She stood there, clothed in blue, her eyes warm and inviting, yet independent. Her body screamed her independence, and she was positioned a little off to the side of the group she was standing with in the portrait. His eyes briefly looked over the other occupants in the portrait, noting the woman who controlled the sea and a man who had a scar running across his left eye. But his gaze always returned to the blue one.

She was riveting. But how did she come to be? No one else pictured in any of the portraits had blue hair, or anything remotely close to it. They all had black hair and dark eyes. And even her bone structure was different, more delicate. He had no doubt in his mind that if he had not come, she would have been the one to take over the monarchy, most likely mating with the man standing in the portrait. Vegeta shuddered at the thought. "No wonder why they're so weak," he growled, irritated again that they had been no trouble.

He wanted to hit something, blast something into many small pieces. He needed to do something before he went insane. Now that he was Supreme there was nothing to do. There was a knock at the door and he barked at them to come in—anything for a diversion from his mind.

A servant came in balancing a tray on her hands. She placed the tray on the koa table that stood next to the balcony doors, probably in case someone wanted to watch the scenery as they ate their meals. She bowed low before him, her face almost pressed to the ground. "Your meal, Sire," she said, her voice slightly muffled as it bounced off the floor. He stared at her, his eyebrows arching in surprise. He hadn't been offended; in fact, far from it. He was thrilled. His own servants didn't bow so low, and yet here was this one, one newly acquired by him, who bowed so low and called him Sire.'

But suspicion also hung at the edges of his mind. Despite how good it felt to have her bow in such a way, there was the possibility that she could be concealing a weapon within the folds of her close, readying herself to kill him. Of course, it wouldn't; he was too fast for this race. But there was no reason not to be too careful.

"Stand," he commanded her.

She hurriedly stood to her feet, her gaze carefully averted to the side.

"Who are these people?" he said to her, motioning to the paintings.

The girl looked at them, and then started to speak, her voice soft. "They are the current rulers, the descendants of Kane."

"Kane?" he said, walking again and looking at the pictures.

"Kane is our Supreme Lord, our god," she said, her voice in total reverence to this deity.

"And you believe that these people are Kane's descendants?"

"Yes."

He turned to look at her, his eyes boring a hole into her soul. He caught her eyes as he said his next statement. "Then why am I now the Supreme Ruler over your planet? Where is your Kane?"

He expected to see hurt flash in her eyes, betrayal, pain, something; but instead she squared her shoulders a bit and he saw faith flash through her eyes. "He will come to our aid."

Vegeta snorted. "Through what? I have captured every single one of the weaklings on this planet, and I have destroyed all your chances of fighting back."

"The Goddess will come to fight for us. She will save us," the girl said, sure.

Vegeta's interest was piqued. "The Goddess? Who is the Goddess?"

The girl shook her head to the last portrait, indicating the blue one. "She is the Goddess."

Vegeta grinned evilly at her. "I have your precious Goddess in my clutches already. She hardly put up a fight."

The girl didn't seem at all perturbed.

"Kakkarot." Vegeta barked at the doorway, knowing full well that Kakkarot was standing there. Kakkarot came in, his face stoic. He stood before Vegeta and placed his right fist over his heart and bowed. He stood then, and looked directly at Vegeta, but passed him in attention. Vegeta turned and walked over to the table. "Take the woman and show her how to give proper respect to her Supreme Ruler." He waved a hand at them motioning them to go.

"Yes, King Vegeta." Kakkarot said, bowing again. He gently pushed the girl out the door, leaving Vegeta to his thoughts again.

The Goddess. It was obvious that she was highly regarded among her people, so highly so that the people still carried faith enough that she would save them, even though she had been captured. He looked again at the picture, desire welling up in him. Maybe she'd be just the diversion he needed.

"Kakkarot." he called again. Without turning to look at his subordinate, he said, "Bring me the loud-mouthed Goddess." Then he picked up his hashi and began to eat.

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Bulma looked out of the window between the bars and sighed. What lesson was she supposed to learn? What good would come out of her capture? There had to be a reason why Kane would do this to her, would force her to be thrown into the Monkey King's dungeon. What greater picture' was he seeing? Gods, sometimes she wondered if he did these things to her just to see her squirm. She could imagine him laughing at her pitiful situation.

Truth was, despite the fact that she was a direct descendant of Kane, she was also a direct descendant of someone much higher than even he: the god of the universe, Olemu. See, logical thinking would allow a person to see that the world did not stop with Kane. Kane only created the earth. There must have been someone with a much higher power than he, someone who created Kane. Thus entered Olemu. She was also Olemu's daughter, a cross between the bloodline of Kane and Olemu, which gave her blue hair. Her mother one night was seduced by Olemu and she conceived. It was only one night, and Olemu never came again to see her mother, but it was enough to tell her mother that Olemu did indeed care about her—otherwise he would have never let her conceive. Her mother loved to tell her stories that she'd heard about Olemu, and she loved to describe Olemu and say how much he loved them. She was sure he loved them even though he never again came to her mother, or herself. Upon her mothers death she was given a pendant that Olemu had given her. It was a round glass ball that seemed to contain the universe in it. The first time she'd seen it she felt like she could fall into the ball. She knew that she held in her hands the universe.

Bulma absently fingered the pendant in thought that hung around her neck on a silver chain. She knew Kane suspected that her birth father was not the man whom she called dad, but he couldn't prove it. So, instead he liked to torture her in ways like these. The worst torture she had was that of her brother, Yamcha. He had placed all his attentions on her, fawning after her every where. She knew that one day she'd have to marry him, but until then she didn't want to have a thing to do with him. Even though her family was known for it's incestuous past-- trying to keep the blood pure-- she didn't agree with it. She'd seen enough of her younger brothers and sisters die because of the retardation of the genes. She couldn't imagine one of her own coming out in such a horrific manner. Of course, tradition had to be kept. Gods, she wished she was Chichi instead of herself. Chichi didn't have to worry about this; she was free to marry whomever she wanted because she was the youngest-- well, the youngest who had lived.

She thought back to her talk earlier with Chichi. She had told Chichi that Kane was behind this, but she had another thought that was much more chilling than Kane. She was pretty sure that Kane had nothing to do with her situation now (he'd never denied her Kilauea before), and that he was probably at a loss of what to do, if he even knew what was going on. No, someone much higher was working this situation. "Olemu."

"Is that who's behind your little predicament?" a voice said behind her.

She continued to look out the window. "If it's not you, then it has to be him." As Bulma looked up at the stars one seemed to wink at her. A small smile played at the corner of her lips.

She felt warm arms encircle her waist and then a body pressed up against her. She continued to look out the window, completely ignoring the man that stood behind her. She could feel his breath on her neck and could hear him breath in her scent. She felt his lips caress her skin softly just below her neck.

"Your beauty grows every day," he murmured softly in her ear.

Bulma sighed and turned around to face him, her face scowling. She shook off his hands and walked to the energy barrier, careful not to step on Chichi as she lay sprawled on the floor sleeping. "What do you want, Kane?" she said, her voice tired. The last thing she needed was Kane bothering her.

"Just wanted to drop in on my favorite person, see how she was fairing in her new home," he said.

Bulma looked at him, her blue eyes steady. "Not that well. You're here."

"Is that anyway to talk to the god of this world?" he said, standing before her and grasping her chin.

"Do I look like I care who you are?"

"Oh, you've hurt me." He smirked at her, his dark eyes dancing.

"What do you want?" Bulma sighed. She rolled her neck to get all the kinks out.

"I just wanted to say that this little predicament of yours has nothing to do with me," he informed her lightly.

"I guessed that," she said annoyed. "You don't have enough brains to think of something like this."

Kane snorted. "You'd be surprised how smart I really am, my dear little half-breed. How do you suppose I created all this beauty?" he said motioning to the land out the window.

"If I remember correctly, I was the one who started it. The lava made this island and then the rains gave it life." she stated factually.

"Who created the volcano and the rains, my dear?" he said smugly.

Bulma said nothing, grudgingly admitting that he was indeed the creator of the volcano and the rains with her silence.

He smirked at her. "One: Kane; Zero: Bulma."

"Shut up, Kane," Bulma said, annoyed.

"Oh, I'm hurt again." He circled her in his arms again, his chin resting on her head.

Bulma shoved him away, disgusted. "You've delivered your little message. Why don't you leave now?"

"And leave my little half-breed all by herself?"

Bulma frowned. Twice he had called her a half-breed. But she said to him, "I'm hardly alone. I do have Chichi." She motioned to the woman sleeping on the floor.

Kane glanced at her briefly, but his eyes settled back on her.

"What? You don't like your full-blooded relative?" Bulma watched his reaction carefully.

He shuddered and glanced at Chichi disgusted. It only took a moment, but she saw it, and she smiled. She chalked up one for herself.

He quickly regained his composure and said, "You finally admit that your father is not the man who you called father?"

"I never told you that he was my father," she said, smirking.

Kane visibly turned red. Bulma chalked up another one for herself.

"You better go before you embarrass yourself more, Kane. I wouldn't want to shred all of your pride," she said.

His eyes smoldered in their sockets. "You better watch yourself, half-breed, or I might not be around to help you out of this one," he said through clenched teeth.

Bulma feigned confusion. "But I thought you were powerless in this situation anyway? What can you do for me?"

Kane shut his eyes and disappeared from her sight. Bulma smiled to herself. She'd won this little war of words with him.

Bulma turned back to the energy barrier and was startled to see Kakkarot standing there. He had a perplexed look on his face. Bulma smiled sourly at him: no doubt he thought she was a lunatic now that he had caught her talking' to herself. Damn Kane! He had to only appear to her. She could see him laughing now.

"Do you always talk to yourself?" Kakkarot asked her.

She looked at him, surprised that he would even ask her that, let alone talk to her like she was someone of worth. She decided that she didn't want to get into the whole story about Kane, so she answered, "No."

Kakkarot grunted and shook himself. Clearing his throat, he said, "King Vegeta wants to see you." He shut down the energy barrier and motioned for her to step out.

Bulma sighed and stepped out into the long corridor. Now she was on to another idiot, "a handsome idiot, though" her mind rebelled. She looked back at the cell and saw Chichi shiver on the floor. She turned her gaze to Kakkarot who was also looking at Chichi, strangely though. He looked . . . sorry. He shook himself again and closed the energy barrier.

"Let's go." he said.

"Lead on."

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FYI

Olemu is made up.

Kane's character (as in the way he behaves) is made up. It is a gross misinterpretation of him.


	4. Chapter 4

Fire and Ice  
By: Lehua

Disclaimer: DBZ is not mine, so I do not own these characters. This fic was originally posted on http://www.adimra. as a contest entrance for August 11, 2001. I didn't finish it on time so it wasn't voted on. The site has since stopped being updated, but there are some awesome stories on it.

Based on the Hawaiian Myth of 'Pele and Kamapua'a.'

**Chapter 4**

Bulma found herself being led to the master bedroom of the palace. Kakkarot stopped at the door and would go no further. "You're not coming with me?" she asked him.

He merely shook his head and pushed the doors open for her. After she had gone through, he closed them.

Bulma sighed and looked around the familiar room, her parent's room-- well, her deceased parents rooms. Her mother had died a few years earlier and her father had recently died. According to tradition this was actually her and Yamcha's room now; but she had never spent a night in it after her father's death, and she had no clue if Yamcha had. Not that she cared. Yamcha could sleep with every woman on this planet and she wouldn't have cared. But, he did have eyes only for her. "Damn, Kane," she cursed under her breath.

"What did you say, woman?" she heard the King's dark voice from the balcony.

Vegeta stepped out of the shadows, fully outfitted in his Saiyan uniform. Bulma unconsciously held her breath at the sight of him. Now that she wasn't yelling in his face she had a clearer mind, and a good view. He wasn't small: he was compact, a big difference. His muscles moved smoothly underneath his skin, and he moved like a lava flow: smooth, direct, and unstoppable—well, at least until it hit the sea. She wondered what would stop him. But what he didn't have in stature he clearly made up for in authority. The air around him seemed to vibrate, it was alive. Every few moments she saw sparks light the air surrounding him, like lighted volcanic ash as it fell from space to a cooling black river. As he moved toward her, the air seemed to clear before him as if it too needed to obey.

Silence reigned as he moved to her, their noses almost touching. She could feel her body wanting to rebel, wanting to go weak at the knees and fall into his arms—or at least to the floor. Gods she was happy that she still had control over herself. All the years of fending off Kane and Yamcha was being put to the test now. And she knew she was winning by a slim thread.

"What did you say, woman?" he asked again, his voice low and seductive.

"My name isn't woman, Monkey Prince," she said, taking a step back and bowing mockingly before him. She snapped her head up as she righted her body, staring straight into his dark eyes.

A few more moments of a tense silence went by. Bulma had no idea how he was going to react. He could 1 kill her, or 2 laugh it off and mock her also. He seemed to opt for 2 because he just grinned at her and turned away, making sure she got a good look at him as he walked out back to the balcony, to the shadows.

Bulma didn't know what to do. He had clearly called for her, but she couldn't figure out what he wanted. Well, actually, she could figure out what he wanted, but he didn't seem to want to force the issue. He actually seemed to think that she would come to him or something. Or maybe he just wanted to see her squirm. Well, whatever he wanted _she_ certainly wasn't going to cater to it. She was tired of these men who continued to make her life a living hell. Gods, what did she do to deserve this?

"Is there something you want, Vegeta?" she said, her voice irritated and tired.

Her answer was silence.

"Well, if you're going to ignore me, I'm just going to go to sleep. No, I'm not going to come to you, and no, I'm not going to squirm for you either," she said, her voice more tired now than irritated.

Bulma moved across the floor to an adjacent chamber that served at the bedroom. A large portrait of her family stood next to the entrance of the room. She looked at it for a moment, tears forming at the corners of her eyes as she looked at her beautiful mother. She tore her gaze from the portrait and made her way to the standing wardrobe that stood next to another smaller, private balcony. She opened it and found her mother clothes, still clean and pressed, hanging neatly in a row. She pulled out a blue wrap, and then set herself to the task of removing her clothes and putting on the wrap. By the time she was finished, tears were leaving silver trails down her soft cheeks.

She walked out to the small balcony for a moment, gazing at the creations of her true father. "What is your plan?" she whispered. "And why me?" She closed her eyes briefly, quieting her soul. A breeze blew over her, making the wrap flutter. She opened her eyes and looked at the stars for a moment more, then made her way into the chamber, blowing out the candles and torches before she lay underneath the silky covers of her mother's bed.

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Vegeta watched the woman from the shadows as she undressed, dressed, gazed, and then laid herself down to sleep. He'd seen her tears and was a bit perplexed at why she was crying. She certainly wasn't crying because of him: she wasn't even scared of him. And he was a little disconcerted that she would cry at all in his presence. She wasn't as weak as the others and he knew that for a fact.

And what had she said to him? " . . . No, I'm not going to come to you, and no, I'm not going to squirm for you either." Her irritation seemed to flow out of her body as she spoke, and she just looked tired. Her movements afterward seemed mechanical, as if she'd done it dozens of times before, or maybe saw someone do it dozens of times.

And the tears . . . ah, he didn't know what to make of it. He'd seen people cry out of fear while they begged for mercy, and he'd seen servants cry out of fear just because it was the only way they could handle the situation; but she cried not out of fear. She cried out of . . . sorrow? Pain? What?

He floated out over to the bed, careful not make any noises to wake her. She was sleeping on her right side, facing the balcony doors. The doors were still open and the starlight glowed faintly on her creamy skin. Two silvery trails had dried on her face, and her mouth was set in a grim line as she slept. Her eyes moved restlessly under their lids. No doubt she was dreaming. He reached out to touch her face with a gloved hand, and then thought better of it. He wanted to touch her skin with his own fingers. He pulled the glove off and traced her jaw line with the back of his fingers. She jerked suddenly and he recoiled in panic.

Panic? What the hell was wrong with him? This was his room now. He could do whatever he wanted, make as much noise as he deemed fit . . . he was the Supreme, after all. He growled to himself loudly, trying to convince himself of his own superiority right now. He'd let himself go, let his guard down, shaming his culture for just a moment because of what this woman caused in him.

He grabbed her wrist suddenly, the violence of it waking her from her fitful sleep. She gasped and he felt her try to pry his grip off her wrist.

"You're hurting me," she gasped.

"Do you really think I care?" he said, his words clipped and biting.

Her eyes opened wide and then they narrowed. "No, I don't," she snarled at him.

He could feel excitement coursing through his veins. She was going to fight. He grinned evilly at her and pulled her wrist so that it was positioned above her head. He went to grab her other wrist but before he could she punched him square in the face, stunning him but causing no real damage. He let go of her wrist and she rolled away from him toward the balcony. He grabbed at her, missing her but grabbing the wrap. It came undone and she yelped as she fell painfully to the floor from the whiplash she received. He barked a laugh and jumped over the bed and hauled her up from the floor, her backside facing him. He could feel his body responding as she struggled against him. He gripped her harder.

"Don't fight me. There's no way you can win," he whispered in her ear.

She went limp suddenly, as if the realization of his words finally sunk into her brain. His hold loosened a bit, but not totally; he didn't totally trust her not to do something.

And he was quite right because suddenly she dropped low, bringing her arms up at the same time and moving off to the left just a little. He was left with nothing between his hands as she pivoted quickly on her feet and elbowed him sharply in the stomach. He doubled over in surprise and then he felt her hand hit his thigh and ride all the way up. He gasped suddenly and fell to the floor, shock written all over his face.

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Bulma knew she had to act quickly. She dashed over to the wardrobe and pulled out some clothes suitable for travel along the roaring lava flows. She quickly slipped into them and ran to the balcony. She turned back to see Vegeta getting up to his feet slowly.

"Until next time, Monkey Prince," she said loudly to him.

His head shot up and he looked at her, his eyes ready to take that challenge. "You won't get very far." he said, grinning.

"Yeah, we'll see."

She waved shortly at him and jumped off the balcony.


	5. Chapter 5

Fire and Ice  
By: Lehua

Disclaimer: DBZ is not mine, so I do not own these characters. This fic was originally posted on http://www.adimra. as a contest entrance for August 11, 2001. I didn't finish it on time so it wasn't voted on. The site has since stopped being updated, but there are some awesome stories on it.

Based on the Hawaiian Myth of 'Pele and Kamapua'a.'

**Chapter 5**

Bulma fell through the air and landed deftly on the ground, tumbling to minimize injury. She tumbled into a standing position and looked up at the balcony, seeing Vegeta grab the edge and look the long way down. She didn't know if he saw her, but she wasn't about to stick around to find out. She ran, her feet sure as she sprinted across the earth. She'd lived here her whole life and knew these woods like the back of her hand. She could anticipate everything under her feet before she even came to it. She ran, her feet skipping over raise roots and the earth soft from the recent rainfall. The air felt cool along her body, and she knew it would have been a good night to watch the stars. Ah, there will always be another night—that is if she got through this night.

She didn't think he was capable of rape, but she guessed she was wrong. She had been surprised at the violence in his actions. She thought it would have been above him to take her forcefully. Yeah, well she wasn't going to make that mistake again. Now he was on her turf.

She could hear the ocean long before she saw it. She almost cried out in relief. "Almost there," she whispered fiercely to herself.

The trees were significantly thinner now as she neared the ocean. She could feel the mixture of sand and dirt now under her feet and smell the salty ocean air. She breathed in the sweet air and adrenaline pumped newly through her veins. She broke out of the tree cover totally, her feet now encountering sand and large rocks, and then finally the hard dead reef. She ran along the edge of the reef, knowing one wrong step would send her plummeting over the edge onto the live reef below. She knew the waves had enough power to throw her against the dead reef, hopefully killing her instantly, but knowing it wouldn't. The fact that she was part goddess didn't faze her because she could still die just like any other man, or woman.

Bulma could see her relief now, a dark cavern that loomed ahead of her. It was an entrance to her domain, the hot lava flows beneath. No one knew about it except her and Chichi, and Chichi only knew because she was in control of the ocean.

She was almost there when he shot out of the sky and stood in the way. He glowed a hot white light, his face grinning. She stopped mid-stride, trying hard to hide her surprise. Flight: she'd forgotten they could fly. But he could read her expression.

"Aren't we forgetful?" he mocked her. He crossed his arms over his finely muscled chest.

"You're on my turf now," she said to him in a strong voice.

"Show me what you can do, Goddess." he said, planting his body firmly in the spot he was standing.

Bulma closed her eyes for a moment. "Chichi, please lend me your powers," she whispered.

She could feel the strength of the ocean surge into her, filling her completely. The power threatened to overpower her, but she harnessed it as she harnessed the power of Kilauea. She opened her eyes and they started to glow an ethereal blue. Vegeta's eyes were steadily gazing at her. "Watch this, Monkey Prince," she said.

Her hands lifted up and she spun once, the water following, forming a churning tunnel. Vegeta stood straight and watched the spectacle. Bulma began to yell, her voice gaining power as the water spun faster and faster, her hair flying wildly. She brought her hands down and out, directing them toward Vegeta's form. The water hit him, swallowing him. He said not a word, just let it hit him head on. She knew it wouldn't kill him, but it might do some damage, and she hoped it would pull him out a bit with the tide.

She began to run again, her feet sure on top of the water. The water was beginning to rush out back to the ocean and she found that Vegeta was not standing where she'd last seen him. In fact, she couldn't see him at all now. She silently thanked the ocean and hoped that he wouldn't show up before she made it into the cavern.

She yelped suddenly as a hand shot out of the water, grabbing her ankle. She fell, hitting the water hard and then sinking underneath as the hand pulled her under. She was yanked toward his body and he grabbed her roughly, pinning her hands against his chest. They were face to face and he grinned at her. He started to yell, and she felt his ki flair out, moving the water so that it now surrounded them. He floated up with her still pressed firmly against his chest. Soon they were above the water and he turned his gaze to it and watched the rest of it flow out. He placed her on the ground and released her. She fell back onto the pointed reef sharply, biting back her cry of pain.

"That was quite a trick, but it won't work on me like it worked on my men. And even then, your sister was still caught," he said to her, shaking off the water.

Bulma looked away from him. Now what was she suppose to do? He was stronger than the water. She felt for Kilauea, but she still couldn't use her. Damn, she was stuck. She got up from the ground and dusted herself off.

"What do you want?" she asked him.

He answered her with silence again.

"Dammit, Vegeta, if I don't know what you want there's nothing I can do!" she screamed at him.

"Woman, you know what I want," he said, crossing his arms.

"And you know I won't give you the satisfaction." she snapped at him.

"Yeah, we'll have to see about that," he said, his gaze seeming to bore holes into her.

"You don't get it! I don't want you! I want to see you dead!" she raved.

He smirked at her. "I'm not going to die anytime soon."

"Ain't that a damn shame," she muttered to herself, looking at the floor. She turned back to the palace and started to walk.

"Where the hell are you going?" he said her.

"Back."

"Oh, so we've finished this game of cat and mouse, have we?" he called to her.

She ignored him and walked faster. Gods, what she going to do now? "Father, what do you want me to do?" she prayed silently to him.

As if an answer to her prayer, Kane appeared out of no where. Bulma stopped before she collided with him. "Dammit, Kane, I wasn't talking to you," she snarled at him.

"Hey, babe, I happen to be a distant father to you, you know," he said, his arms outstretched.

Bulma pushed passed him. "And yet you still want to sleep with me," she growled at him.

"Woman, who the hell are you talking to?" Vegeta demanded as appeared before her seemingly out of thin air.

Bulma turned and smiled weakly at Kane, her thin arms crossed and body shivering from the cold sea breeze. "Oh, thank you, Kane, for making me look like an idiot," she said to him. She turned back in the direction she was going and rammed right into Vegeta. She grunted and felt her anger flare. "Will nothing go right for me?" she screamed at no one in particular.

Vegeta grabbed her roughly on the arms and forced her gaze on him. He looked directly into her eyes and she could have sworn she saw a hint of concern in their cold depths. She pushed the thought away before she ended banking on it and getting herself almost raped again. She tried to shake out of his grasp.

"Let me go," she said to him.

His gripped never lessened and his eyes never faltered from hers. "Woman, I don't take kindly to being in the dark about anything, especially when it comes to my property."

"Vegeta, you don't take kindly to anything," she said to him, rolling her eyes.

He glared at her.

"Hey, maybe if you act like you're crazy he'll let you go . . . or kill you," Kane said, grinning at Bulma.

"And then I'll be stuck with you for eternity," she called over he shoulder. She looked at Vegeta again. "Kane is standing over there," she said indicating the spot with her head.

"You're god," he stated, his eyes guarded.

Bulma smirked. "He's not my god."

"What does he want?" Vegeta asked her curious.

"He wants me to act like I'm insane so you will either kill me or let me go. Of course, Kane has been known to have a few brain cells missing," she said, directing the verbal jab more at Kane than giving Vegeta information.

Vegeta's face was impassive for a few moments, and then he grinned. "Insane, huh? You sound like you don't like him," Vegeta said, his voice low and directed for only her ears.

"He wants to get in my pants," she said to him.

Vegeta smirked. "Seems like everyone wants to," he noted. "I have an idea. Follow my lead."

Before she knew what was happening Vegeta was kissing her, passionately. His arms were wrapped around her waist possessively and their bodies were pressed together. She felt a nudge in her mind and a voice say, "Follow my lead." Bulma quickly complied, and a little too eagerly for her taste. She knew what he was trying to do. And she knew it would work.

Kane grabbed her arm and yanked her away from Vegeta. He shoved her behind him and glared at Vegeta. "Don't you ever touch her again!" he yelled.

Vegeta opened his eyes. Bulma didn't even see the motion, but before she knew it Kane was dangling off the ground, Vegeta's grip tight on his throat. "You're the weakling that's supposed to protect this planet," he stated.

Kane's eyes narrowed and then Bulma felt his power start to swell, and then hit a wall. Bulma laughed aloud. "Kane, you know you can't hurt either of us until due time," she said, her voice drunk with power.

Vegeta glanced at her oddly, but then turned his gaze back to the god dangling in his grasp. "Do gods die?" he asked darkly.

Kane paled.

"I'll take that as a yes." Vegeta threw him to the ground and prepared a ki blast. He glanced at Bulma and saw her frown, but she didn't move to stop him. He shook himself. Why should he care what she thought? But he couldn't shake the thoughts whirring through his mind. He put his hand down and grunted. "Get out of here. Don't you dare ever come near her again."

Kane disappeared.

Bulma continued to frown.

"What the hell is wrong now, woman?" he said, wanting to blow something up again.

"That'll only deter him for a while, at least until you're gone," she said.

Vegeta smirked. "Do you think I'll leave you here?"

Her head shot up and her eyes flashed a hot white at him. He could feel his arousal growing again. Damn this woman; no woman moved him as she did. He stepped toward her and enveloped her in his arms. "I will not leave you here, Little One," he told her tenderly, surprising them both.

She looked at him, her eyes wide in shock. Little One? Had he just talked to her without demanding? Had he just talked to like he was her lover? She was overcome with shock. She freed one hand and touched his face, her fingers trailing over the smooth skin. She looked deep into his eyes and was touched with what she saw there. He was sad, hurt, and lonely . . . so lonely. She could see his desire for reprieve from his loneliness, and she could see that he blamed no one but himself for the way he was. He looked like he wanted to be needed, to be . . . loved, and possibly love someone else too.

A tear slipped down her cheek and her gently brushed it from her skin. "Why do you cry?" he asked her, honestly curious.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed suddenly, throwing her arms around his neck and burying her head into his shoulder. She trembled against him, her body gasping for air.

He started to rock and sing softly in her ear in a foreign tongue. The sound and his voice comforted her, the deep notes touching chords of peace in her soul. She relaxed and her tears eventually stopped. She opened her eyes and stared out to the sea, the beginnings of the sun beginning to lighten the sky.

He pulled away from her gently and pulled her chin so that they stood face to face, one arm still casually along her waist. He leaned forward and touched his lips to hers, electricity sparking between them. Bulma pushed herself against him, letting her desire for release to come out. She desperately needed release, and she desperately wanted him. She moaned as his hands started to explore the contours of her back. She could feel his mind nudge hers again and then images flooded her mind: his father, his mother, his shame. She could feel the tears starting to form again and they trailed down her face as they kissed.

She felt their feet leave the ground, and he scooped up her legs from beneath her. She clung to his neck as they flew to the palace, never once taking her lips from his. They were at the palace shortly and he placed her gently on the bed and broke their kiss. He stood off to the side, the starlight and pale sunlight hitting his back. She could see his eyes clearly and they now pleaded for her acceptance.

She paused for a moment, overcome. What the hell was she doing? He had just conquered her world, enslaved the whole planet. He almost raped her earlier. He was an egotistical bastard who had killed millions of people just because it was fun.

But she understood. She understood the problem behind his psychosis. And she . . . accepted it. She knelt on the bed and slowly removed her clothes. His eyes scoured her body and she beckoned to him, her arms wide open to him. He came to her and she slowly undressed him, caressing and kissing him lightly.

Once they were fully undressed and skin to skin, he took over. He rubbed her body down with his hands, eliciting moans from her and touching tender spots in her that she never knew existed. Ah, if this was how he was as a lover, she wouldn't mind at all what he did. She couldn't believe that anyone was this good.

Vegeta's mind was moving fast, trying his best to please this goddess that had accepted him fully, though she knew just how horrible he was. He had fought her, but she had conquered him. He could feel his desire growing in leaps and bounds as her hands moved over his back and played with his tail. They were in for a long day.


	6. Chapter 6

Fire and Ice  
By: Lehua

Disclaimer: DBZ is not mine, so I do not own these characters. This fic was originally posted on http://www.adimra. as a contest entrance for August 11, 2001. I didn't finish it on time so it wasn't voted on. The site has since stopped being updated, but there are some awesome stories on it.

Based on the Hawaiian Myth of 'Pele and Kamapua'a.'

WARNING: While there is no description of sexual violence, there is mention of sexual violence (rape).

**Chapter 6**

Vegeta rose from the bed 20 hours later, darkness fully settled on the earth. The woman stirred a bit and protested as he pulled away from her, but she settled back into her dreams comfortably after a time. He watched her for a moment, marveling at how just 24 hours before she had been fighting him, intent on winning, and then she'd . . . given up? It went so fast and was such a blur he was sure he would never understand what had really happened in those few moments before she accepted him. Not that he wanted to understand because he had gotten what he wanted even though she had practically sworn that he never would.

He smirked and walked to the living quarters. A bowl sat there with a cloth, obviously so he could wash himself. He growled and cursed: no running water. He was not going to wash himself with a bowl of water and cloth; it was beneath him. Then again, he didn't want to go back to the ship just so he could shower either. His little minx might have a change of heart and try to escape.

He growled and stormed away from the bowl; he could live awhile longer without washing. He walked out to the large balcony and leaned against the koa railing, his gaze directed towards the stars. His mind, though, was on her. Why had he acted the way he did last night? He should have killed her for her insolence last night as soon as the first words were uttered from her mouth. But he hadn't, and he had just let her do whatever she'd wanted. What had he been trying to prove last night?

And what had she meant when she said that baka god couldn't do anything until due time? Did she have something up her sleeve? Could she possibly be more powerful than he thought? Could she possibly have planned all of this from the get go? Questions raced through his head, and absolutely no answers that made much of any sense came to mind. She could have planned this from the beginning, knowing that if she couldn't free her people by force then she could try it by finesse. She could be planning to take him out from the inside, waiting until his defenses were at their lowest before striking. The more he thought the more nothing made sense and the more things seemed to become more sinister. In due time . . . well, in due time he was going to drive himself crazy if he didn't do something or find out what she had meant.

What she had meant?! Why should he even care?! Well, he didn't. Vegeta had worked himself into a frenzy now from the silent battle that was going on in his head. He needed to make it clear to her who was the master and who was the slave.

He stormed into the room, barely able to contain his anger. One look at her and his resolve almost dissolved, but then he caught himself in his weakness and walked purposefully over to the bed and shook her awake. "Woman!" he bellowed.

Her blue eyes opened groggily and she peered at him from behind long lashes. "Vegeta . . ."

He grabbed her arm and pulled her roughly from the bed. "Know this: I am the master and you are the slave. No matter what you're planning you will not succeed," he barked harshly at her.

She gazed at him confused and then her eyes widened. "So she had been planning something," he thought to himself as he watched her.

He didn't let her protest before he pushed her roughly down back on the bed. He forced himself on her then, listening to her cries of pain as they rang in the chamber. He fell beside her afterward and fell into a fitful sleep.

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Bulma laid on the bed after their encounter, her mind racing and her body hurting more than she thought possible. What happened? One moment he was all soft touches and caresses and the next her was raping her. Gods she hurt.

She dragged herself from the bed and across the room to the living quarters. Her skin was bruised and bleeding and she ached all over. She grabbed the washcloth from the table and began to mechanically wash herself, her mind in a total state of shock. She felt numb, like she wasn't really here, wasn't really experiencing what she was, like she was watching someone else. She felt like she was outside.

Was this the purpose she was called to fulfill? Was this the reason she here? No, she couldn't believe her father would let this happen to her. This wasn't her destiny. She rubbed her skin roughly making it turn a bright shade of red. She didn't deserve to be treated this way. No one did. She wouldn't stand for this. She could feel the anger beginning to rise and she dried herself off with a towel. She could feel the blood pulsing hotly in her veins and she felt power course through her body. She felt and saw the sudden display of Kilauea against the black night sky through the balcony doors.

She smiled suddenly. "Kilauea."


	7. Chapter 7

Fire and Ice  
By: Lehua

Disclaimer: DBZ is not mine, so I do not own these characters. This fic was originally posted on http://www.adimra. as a contest entrance for August 11, 2001. I didn't finish it on time so it wasn't voted on. The site has since stopped being updated, but there are some awesome stories on it.

Based on the Hawaiian Myth of 'Pele and Kamapua'a.'

**Chapter 7**

Bulma padded silently down the corridor of the ship, seeking out her sister. She had escaped from Vegeta and the palace and now need to get her sister out before Vegeta woke and found she was gone. She followed the unfamiliar hallways, only guided by her link to Chichi. She found the cell that she had shared with Chichi and found that Chichi was asleep, a blanket covering her small body. She frowned, wondering where the blanket had come from. Could that man, Kakkarot, have covered her out of pity? Or had he done other things to her sister, things that needed not be brought up to mind because of the horror they invoked. But as she gazed at Chichi, she didn't believe that Kakkarot could have or would have done anything to harm her. Chichi laid there completely relaxed.

"I didn't touch her," a voice said from behind her.

Kakkarot. Well, that put her mind at ease somewhat. "I know."

"I'm assuming you're here to make an escape with her," he stated.

Bulma nodded. She turned to look at him, considering how much trouble he would cause her.

He towered over her and looked at her easily. There was definitely something different about him from all the other Saiyans. He seemed to be gentle and compassionate; of course, he was probably just as fully devoted to his King as all he other Saiyans were, though probably more out of loyalty than fear. He gazed at Chichi for a while, a battle seeming to take place in his heart. He sighed and his shoulders sagged. "You know, I can't let you do that," he said finally.

"I know." Bulma said a she lightly placed a hand on his shoulder and sent an electric shock through his body, disrupting his nervous system. She shot her hands up along his head, disconnecting the flow of signals along his nerves at his temples momentarily. She kicked him once in the stomach, making him double over, and then she hit him on the back of his head with her elbow making him crumble to the floor.

With him momentarily out of the picture she looked at the energy field that stood between her and Chichi. She remembered vaguely that Kakkarot touched a panel that was off to the side of the chamber. She found the panel, an intricate piece of machinery. If she had the time she would break the code, but time she didn't have, so she sent another electrical shock through the panel, disabling the workings within the system. The energy flickered once and then disappeared.

She ran over to Chichi and shook her awake. "Chichi, get up. We need to get out before Vegeta wakes," she whispered urgently.

Chichi groaned and then stared groggily at Bulma. "Bulma? Where have you been?" she said, her voice hoarse from sleep.

"Don't worry about that now. We need to get out of here," Bulma said hurriedly, helping Chichi to her feet.

Chichi's eyebrows scrunched together. "Why?"

Bulma looked at her amazed. "What do you mean why? These people have captured us and plan to make us their slaves. Do you want to stay?"

Chichi's eyes flared. "No, of course not," she sputtered. "But why are you escaping all of a sudden," she demanded. She grabbed the blanket and wrapped it around her body as they stepped out of the chamber.

"Because I can," was all Bulma said, silencing Chichi with a glare.

Bulma noticed Chichi gaze uncertainly at Kakkarot as he lay on the floor, groaning. "Are you going to take him with you, Chichi?" she said exasperated.

Chichi glared at her and then shrugged. "Why not?" she said casually. She kneeled on the ground and heaved Kakkarot over her shoulder.

Bulma looked at her wide-eyed. "You're not really going to take him, are you?" she said, though she knew just by the look in Chichi's eyes that she was serious. Before Chichi could snap at her, she said, "Forget it." Shaking her head, she led the way out of the ship.

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"Sire!" a voice called, jolting Vegeta from his sleep. His eyes snapped open and he quickly scanned the room, noting the woman was gone. He jumped out of bed, threw on his clothes, and stormed out into the living quarters.

"Sire," a voice immediately started. "Kakkarot has been kidnapped and all the slaves have escaped."

Vegeta spun in the direction of the voice. It was Turles. He grabbed the Saiyan by the throat. "How can a Saiyan be captured by two women and a bunch of slaves?" he breathed through clenched teeth.

"I don't know." Turles said.

Vegeta threw Turles against the wall. "What are you baka's doing now: sitting around and playing cards? Go out and find him, and get all my slaves back!" Vegeta commanded, his voice rising.

"Sire, we are now in the process of doing that," Turles said weakly, rubbing his throat and getting up from the floor.

"Then what the hell are you doing here? Get the hell out!" Vegeta yelled, throwing a ki ball at Turles. The Saiyan dodged it and sped out of the room.

What the hell had gone wrong? What the hell was she doing? How did she get passed him? "Well, that's easy. You let your guard down," a voice said in his head. Vegeta didn't want to believe that, didn't want to believe that he had let her escape. "Think about it: maybe if you hadn't raped her she wouldn't have run away from you," the voice persisted.

"No, I am the master and she is the slave. I can do what I want with her," he whispered fiercely to himself.

"That's what you want to believe. But you know what's really going on. You know what you really feel for her. And you messed up, like you always do," the voice said venomously.

"No!" Vegeta screamed, pressing his hands against his temples. He was going crazy; that voice hadn't spoken to him once since the death of his father, since he killed his father. Now it was back, and it seemed to have come back with vengeance.

Before . . . .

"You're worthless! You are not my son!" the voice said, followed by a swift bat at Vegeta's head.

Vegeta spun from the hand but was still grazed by the long finger nails. He could feel the blood streaming down his face. He wiped it away on a gloved hand and glared at his father. The man turned on his heel and stormed off to the gods-know-where.

Vegeta got to his feet and dusted himself off. His face showed no emotion but his mind was reeling. "Worthless . . . nothing . . . you'll amount to nothing . . . you're not my son . . . you get nothing right . . . meaningless . . . ."

Now . . . .

He had thought that the voices would stop when his father was dead, killed by his hands, and they did; but now they were back. No, he wouldn't let them take over his mind. They had no place in his life now.

Vegeta felt a rumbling under his feet and the earth swayed a bit. The sky lit a bright red outside the balcony. "Woman."

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Bulma, Chichi, and an unconscious Kakkarot slowly made their way up the molten slopes of Kilauea. "Almost there," Bulma called to Chichi as they climbed the last trek of their long, hot hike.

"Woman," she heard a voice call before her.

Her head shot up from the hot red floor and stared straight into cold black eyes. "Monkey King," she shot at him, her eyes glaring.

He floated a few feet above the hot ground and a sheen of sweat covered his skin. His arms were crossed over his chest and he stared down at her, like the first time they met. "Did you think I was going to let you get away?" he stated.

"Did you think I was going to be your slave?" she snapped back at him.

"Yes."

Bulma snorted. "You know, I thought you were different. For just a moment you were . . . human. But that was totally blown away when you . . . ." Bulma stopped, unable to say what was on her mind. She could feel tears starting to form in her eyes.

Chichi stopped too and stared shocked at the odd couple that were before her. Bulma could feel power swelling from her, and she could hear Kakkarot stirring on her shoulder; he groaned aloud.

Vegeta's gaze darted over to Kakkarot. "Do you think Kakkarot will let you live when he wakes?" he said casually.

"Do you think he'd actually kill us?" she challenged him.

Vegeta remained silent.

"I didn't think so." She looked over her shoulder directly at Chichi. "Go on ahead." Chichi nodded and continued walking up the slope.

Bulma saw Vegeta shoot a ki ball out of his finger at Chichi. She swung her hand down and up, causing the lava to form a wall to protect Chichi from most of the blast. Pieces of black rock fell from the sky sizzling as it hardened mid air. He continued his assault on Chichi and Bulma blocked each one, blow for blow. Bulma could see his composure starting to slip. "What? If you can't take the heat, then get away from my volcano," she said.

He glared at her.

"Bulma!" Chichi called from the lip of the volcano. Bulma nodded and then Chichi dropped into the volcano.

Vegeta's eyes grew wide as he watched Chichi plummet into the volcano. His head swiveled back in the direction of Bulma. "Woman, what the hell did you just do?"

Bulma smiled at him sadly. "Goodbye Vegeta."

She closed her eyes and lifted her arms. A wave of hot lava cascaded over the lip of Kilauea and poured down the hot slopes and directly over her, covering her in its hot silkiness.

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Vegeta gaped at the spectacle and recoiled from the heat before it burned him alive. He lifted himself in the cool air, sweat streaming from his body. "Bulma . . . ." he whispered painfully as the lava continued to flow down the slope towards the ocean.

The volcano began to erupt more violently, lava shooting hundreds of feet into the air. He watched it, awed, and he could have sworn at one point that the lava created a silhouette of her.

She was gone. Goddess of the volcano. She might have survived, but his mind couldn't, wouldn't, believe that. How could anyone survive that?

"Sire!" a voice called.

Vegeta closed his eyes and slowly turned to the source of the voice. "Turles."

"The tectonic plates of this planet are shifting and are causing violent eruptions throughout the planet. It is advised that we get off this planet before it explodes," Turles stated.

Vegeta grunted and flew off to the ship that stood waiting above the violently shaking earth. Once aboard the ship he watched the earth shake and boil. And then in one gigantic blast, it was gone.


	8. Chapter 8

Fire and Ice  
By: Lehua

Disclaimer: DBZ is not mine, so I do not own these characters. This fic was originally posted on http://www.adimra. as a contest entrance for August 11, 2001. I didn't finish it on time so it wasn't voted on. The site has since stopped being updated, but there are some awesome stories on it.

Based on the Hawaiian Myth of 'Pele and Kamapua'a.'

**Chapter 8**

18 years later . . . .

A purple-locked head poked into the room. "Mom, someone's here to see you," A worried look creased his forehead.

Bulma sighed and got up from her mat on the floor. The smiled softly at her son, Trunks, and walked out of her room, gently touching him on the shoulder. She gazed at him for a moment, sadness touching her eyes. "Looks so much like his father," she thought to herself. She continued on into the outer room.

"Ah, there's my little half-breed."

Bulma sighed and glared half-heartedly at Kane. His arms were outstretched, ready to embrace her. She grimace and turned away from him. "What do you want now?"

He feigned hurt. "I just wanted to see how my favorite person was doing." He made a sad face and gave her puppy-dog eyes.

"That's all you ever do. Don't you have better things to do?" she said, irritated.

"So little to do and so much time. That's the curse of being a god," he said nonchalantly.

"That's why I'd rather not be one," she remarked to him. Trunks suddenly appear at the doorway, his face emotionless. But she knew better. Beneath that stoic gaze he was moldering in his anger. Kane didn't know what he was up against.

"Oh, come now," he said, approaching her. "Don't you want to live forever?" He wrapped his arms around her waist, oblivious to her sons burning gaze.

"Not with you," she said, disgusted. She pushed him away.

"Then with who: that man who left you 18 years ago to carry his child all by your lonesome? The mass murderer?" he exclaimed.

Before Bulma could take another breath Kane was hanging in Trunks' hands, the air being choked out of him. "Don't you ever talk about my father again," he threatened through clenched teeth.

Kane glared at him. "You know, you're just like your father," he rasped.

"Then you know what he's capable of," Bulma threw in. "I suggest you leave."

Trunks grunted his agreement.

Kane closed his eyes and clenched his teeth. Then he was gone.

Bulma sighed and slumped down to the floor, too tired to stand. Trunks ran to her side.

"Mom, are you okay?" he asked worriedly.

She raised a shaky hand to her temple. "I'm just tired," she whispered. She leaned lightly on him as she got up from the floor and shuffled softly to her room. Trunks walked with her to her room and helped her to lie down on her mats. The sunlight filtered gently through the matted roof, causing shapes to appear in all corners of the room. Bulma smiled at him and played with a lock of his hair as she lay down.

"You know, you look so much like your father," she whispered to him.

Trunks smiled and held her hand. "I know. Everyone's told me."

Bulma smiled wider and closed her eyes.

"Mom, you need to start eating again. You're getting too weak," he said softly.

"I'm not hungry," she replied, sighing softly.

Before Trunks could reply, a voice called from the outer room. "Bulma! Trunks!"

Trunks sighed and got up from the floor to see who was calling. Bulma heard a laugh and then soft hurried voices. Chichi appeared later, a worried frown creasing her face.

"Bulma, you need to eat," she said as soon as she came through the doorway.

Bulma grinned at her. "What, no hello?" she said sarcastically.

"Bulma," Chichi said, placing her hands on her hips. "This is not funny. If you don't start eating I'm going to have to get Kakkarot to shove the food down your throat. You know how worried he gets for you."

"Misplaced loyalties," Bulma muttered under her breath. Before Chichi could come back with a snapping remark, Bulma said, "I'm just not hungry."

By this time Trunks had come back into the room. Chichi turned to him. "Could you leave us alone for a minute?"

Trunks nodded and left the room.

Chichi turned back to Bulma. "You know, he's not coming back, Bulma," she said, smoothing Bulma's brilliant blue hair back from her face.

"I know," Bulma said softly. Over the years she and Chichi had had this conversation many times, and she always said the same thing. But she could hope . . . couldn't she?

"Kane's illusion was good Bulma. It would have fooled anyone into believing the earth blew up," she said sympathetically.

Bulma was quiet for a moment, reflecting on that last moment. "I . . . I had so wanted him to leave me in peace, to leave me alone," she said haltingly. She directed her blue eyes to Chichi's dark ones. "But then, as time passed, I missed him." She snapped her head away and looked at her hands as her fingers rung the blanket in her grasp. "He hurt me, you know, hurt me bad," she snorted, "but I still love him. I know it's a terrible thing," she rushed, lifting a hand to silence Chichi, "but it's true. For that one moment he was mine, and I was his; there was no master and slave. We were . . . partners, lovers." She paused for a moment. "Every night I lay by myself remembering his touch. It's driving me crazy," she said softly. "But I can't stop." She placed her gaze on Chichi's face, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Chichi's cheeks were wet with hot tears. She opened her arms and embraced her sister, her friend.

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"Sire," Turles said as he entered the throne room.

"What?" Vegeta snapped. Today was just not his day. Then again, no day was his day anymore, not since . . . her.

"I am here to inform you that the people are waiting for an heir, and heir to your throne," he said factually.

Vegeta scowled. "Since when did the people care?" he sneered.

"Well, Sire, the years are passing by, and each year you reject every female that makes advances at you," Turles said, a little too comfortably for Vegeta's tastes.

Vegeta glared at him. "And what business do the people have in who I take to my bed chambers?"

"None, Sire, I'm just merely stating-"

Vegeta raised his hand to silence Turles. "I have no interest in those weak females," he stated.

Turles knew when to leave well enough alone. He exhaled largely through his nose before he started on his next subject. "Sire, it has come to our attention that a new planet has been formed."

Vegeta looked at him bored. "And what does this mean to me?"

"Well, Sire, it has been found that intelligent life seem to inhabit the planet."

Vegeta looked at him skeptically. "Intelligent life? How can that be if the planet was just formed?"

"Sire, out scientists have no idea how this could have occurred. It seems as if one day there was no planet, and the next there was. They are quite perplexed," Turles said factually.

Vegeta ran a gloved hand over his mouth. "And where is this planet located?"

Vegeta saw Turles visibly hesitate, as if he was readying himself for whatever he was going to say.

"In the exact location of planet Earth."


	9. Chapter 9

Fire and Ice  
By: Lehua

Disclaimer: DBZ is not mine, so I do not own these characters. This fic was originally posted on http://www.adimra. as a contest entrance for August 11, 2001. I didn't finish it on time so it wasn't voted on. The site has since stopped being updated, but there are some awesome stories on it.

Based on the Hawaiian Myth of 'Pele and Kamapua'a.'

**Chapter 9**

Trunks wiped his sweaty brow and stared up into the hot sun. He sighed painfully and heaved the fishing net to land, the fish flopping around all over the place trying to escape from their confinement. He hauled the net and its fish further onto shore, dropping it far enough from the water so the fish wouldn't escape. He sat down tiredly on the rocky sand and ran his hands over his face and hair.

A commotion woke him from his depressed revere. Goten came running out of the thick foliage, his face flushed and gasping for air. "Trunks!"

Trunks looked up at him, startled. "What?" he said jumping to his feet.

"A ship! A big one! Father says it's a Saiyan ship!" he exclaimed, pointing furiously in the direction of the village.

Trunks began to run, the fish forgotten at the shore. He'd been waiting for this day his whole life. He couldn't believe that now it was coming true. Gods, what would he say? What could he say? He found the village in turmoil, people running as far away from the ship as possible. The elders of the village were slowly making their way away from the ship, the fear evident in their eyes. Trunks could almost see what they went through the first time as they ran. The younger people, people around his age, grabbed spears and whatever they could find to defend the village. Trunks knew it was in vain, and so did everyone else. Mothers pulled at their sons arms, urging them to leave the village. The sons gently shook them off and ushered their mothers away, coming back to take up their posts of defense.

Trunks found Kakkarot standing in front of the ship, as if waiting for someone to come out. He supposed that made sense since Kakkarot was Saiyan. He stood at Kakkarot's side. "What should I do?" he asked the older man.

Kakkarot looked at him, a look of total seriousness in his eyes, something rarely seen in those black eyes. "I don't know."

Trunks nodded, understanding. They stood together, waiting.

Finally a door opened and out strolled two Saiyans: a large one and a smaller one. The smaller one had a fixed scowl across his face, his arms crossed against his chest. The taller one stared blankly ahead of him.

"Kakkarot!" the shorter one barked.

Kakkarot nodded slightly. "Vegeta."

Trunks glared at the shorter Saiyan. So this was Vegeta, his father. What was he suppose to feel now that the man had finally come into his life? Love? Relief? Happiness? Gods damn him because he felt none of these. He rushed the man and grabbed him by his clothes, pushing his face close to Vegeta's. "You're too late. She's gone," he said through clenched teeth.

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Vegeta's eyes went wide. Who the hell was this man?

"Trunks!" Kakkarot yelled. He yanked the man off of him.

Vegeta gulped and straightened his clothes. "Who the hell are you?" he demanded when he got enough of his composure back. Turles stood at his side, his face impassive.

"Vegeta-" Kakkarot started.

"I don't believe I was talking to you, Kakkarot. And I am still your King," he snapped.

Trunks shook off Kakkarot's grip. "I'm fine," he directed at Kakkarot.

Kakkarot nodded and stepped back.

Vegeta looked at the youth. He looked familiar. His hair was purple, clearly a human trait, but his face had all the angles of Saiyan. If he didn't know any better, this man looked just like . . . him. Vegeta stifled his shocked expression and clenched his teeth. No, it couldn't be. There was no way this could be his son. He had to be Kakkarot's.

"Think about it," the familiar voice in his head breathed. "He's about as old as he should be if he were your son. You don't know if she did give birth."

"But she's dead," he said fiercely in his head.

Trunks snorted and crossed his arms. "Not quite dead, but not quite alive either."

Vegeta glanced sharply at the boy. His eyes narrowed. "Who are you talking to, boy?"

"You."

"I didn't say that out loud."

Kakkarot and Turles stood watching this exchange, Turles more surprised than Kakkarot. Turles' surprise was evident on his face, and Kakkarot just nodded knowingly.

In Vegeta's mind there was no doubt now: this man, Trunks was his son. The mental bond they had was proof enough. Saiyan's could speak with their children telepathically, and occasionally they could even talk to their mates if their connection was strong enough. Mate? That woman was not his mate.

"That's what you can keep telling yourself," the voice in his head said. "We all know the truth. What are you doing back here if you didn't want to find her again?"

"Shut up," Vegeta said to the voice.

"I didn't say anything," Trunks said aloud.

Vegeta glared at him. "I wasn't talking to you," he said through clenched teeth.

"Talking to yourself then?" Trunks said.

Vegeta could feel himself turning red. He didn't know how much longer he could handle this. There was too much at one time. He had come here to . . . what? Why had he come here?

"You know why: to see her," the voice laughed.

"No, I came here to claim this planet," he whispered to himself. Turles looked at him confused. He directed his gaze to Kakkarot. "You know why I'm here, Kakkarot."

Kakkarot nodded. "You know we won't let you."

Vegeta looked at him skeptically. "We?"

At that moment two other men came rushing in, one a splitting image of Kakkarot and one that looked very much like the ocean woman.

"Ah, I see." Vegeta nodded. "Turles." Vegeta barked.

Turles turned and commanded the Saiyan troops that were staying inside the ship. They came out in formation and stood ready to fight.

"You're outnumbered, Kakkarot. The odds are definitely not in your favor," Vegeta remarked casually.

Kakkarot was about to say something but was stopped by Trunks's hand. "We will not fight, not now. I will not break my mother's heart more than it is broken now."

"Then we will take all your peoples as our slaves as we had originally intended to do," Vegeta stated.

Trunks turned to him, his eyes blazing. Then he smiled. "We will come freely under one condition."

"Trunks!" one of Kakkarot's sons yelled.

Trunks ignored him. "You have to defeat my mother."

Vegeta considered his proposition. Trunks didn't seem to be pulling his tail, didn't even seem capable of such a thing. He didn't see how he would fail either way. Defeating the woman he could do, or he could just force them into submission. But he knew in the eyes of his men that if he turned the boy down he'd be seen as weak because he didn't take up the challenge. Besides, he'd been bored for the past few years since the wars were over. It would make an interesting pass time.

"Agreed."


	10. Chapter 10

Fire and Ice  
By: Lehua

Disclaimer: DBZ is not mine, so I do not own these characters. This fic was originally posted on http://www.adimra. as a contest entrance for August 11, 2001. I didn't finish it on time so it wasn't voted on. The site has since stopped being updated, but there are some awesome stories on it.

Based on the Hawaiian Myth of 'Pele and Kamapua'a.'

**Chapter 10**

Vegeta followed the brat through the village to a temple against the mountain. He could have flown there faster, but the brat didn't seem to be interested in flying. "You said she was gone. How can I defeat her then?" Vegeta asked him now that his head was a bit more cleared.

Trunks sighed and a pained look crossed his face. "She's not really gone. In fact, she's still here. It's just that she's living in another state, another dimension I guess you could say."

Another dimension? Vegeta scowled. "What makes you think that your mother will be able to fight me? Sounds like she's insane to me."

"She's far from insane," Trunks said pointedly.

There was a long period of silence as they walked the last trek of the journey. As they reached the temple doors, Trunks turned to Vegeta. "You know, she loved you. Even though you hurt her, she couldn't stop herself. And even now she cannot. Her only release will be her death, and the only way you can defeat her is by killing her." Trunks swallowed hard. "From here you go on your own. Once you enter the temple you will not be able to leave until one or both of you are dead." Trunks started walking down the road again.

Vegeta stared at the doors, completely perplexed. This was getting to be a little unnerving. He felt like he was living in a cloud, a thick misty fog that settled itself before and behind him so that it made his past and future obscure. He agreed to this game because he had nothing better to do—"you keep telling yourself that," the voice in his head said—but now he felt that this was going to be a critical point in his life. No turning back after this. He knew he was going to have to do or die now. Nothing seemed certain, like the rest of his life was hinged on this moment.

Vegeta shook his head and grabbed the door handle. Taking a deep breath, he stepped inside.

And . . . nothing. He was in a room. The air was a bit oppressive, but nothing he couldn't handle. He walked forward, his gold-tipped boots clicking on the floor. The balcony doors were open, displaying a brilliant night sky. Fire torches burned steadily at strategic points of the room, lighting the room but still giving it a gloomy atmosphere. The feeling of the room was hollow, dead.

Vegeta took a deep breath. He had been here before. This was the royal chambers of the palace. The pictures were exactly the same as he remembered them, except there was one more picture that hadn't been there before; it was a picture of the woman and Trunks. They smiled back at him happily, but there was no joy in them. The woman seemed a bit more so sadder than the brat. There was a big space left in the canvas.

"That's where you were supposed to be," a voice said quietly from the doorway of the bed chambers.

Vegeta spun and his breath was caught in his throat.

She smiled faintly and walked to him, standing before him quietly. She looked him over. "It's been a long time," she said softly.

"I was under the impression that the Earth had exploded," he said.

"Kane's doing. Certainly fooled you."

"And my scientists for 18 years." He saw a shock flicker across her face. "Didn't know it was that long," he stated to her.

She frowned. "No. Kane took off the cloaking about two months later. Kakkarot said that's about how long it would take you to get back to Vegetasei. By then we would hopefully have a big enough resistance if you came again."

Vegeta snorted. "Kakkarot. So easily he was taken by you people." He crossed his arms.

"He loves Chichi."

"Love?" Vegeta exclaimed. "Saiyan's are not capable of love."

"I suppose that's why I meant nothing to you, that's why you left without so much as a look back," she snapped at him.

"D-damn right," he stuttered. Her words had stung him. He didn't know he'd meant that much to her.

She lifted her hands as if to embrace him. "You came here to kill me, so kill me." She stared him straight in the eye, ready to take the killing blow.

Vegeta lifted his, his thumb tucked inside and a ki ball forming. Her eyes never wavered. They were dead locked for a few tense moments, and then he lowered his hand. He turned his head away from her, his arms held tightly at his sides, ashamed. He couldn't do it. Damn it! He couldn't do it! She had been in his thoughts constantly since that night on the volcano, haunting him. He had dreamed of finally killing her, getting rid of her hold over him. But who was he kidding: he was attached to her. She was the only person who accepted him for what he was. A revelation hit him then: he had become just like his father. In his quest to get rid of his father, to end the hatred and pain that had started with his father, he had become the man he didn't want to become. He had become a blood-thirsty killer who shunned anyone who had a true interest in him, anyone who showed that they cared at all. He had become his father and she had become him, the big difference being that if he didn't want to love her than he would have to kill her. She couldn't kill him.

"No no no," he said, shaking his head with his hands pressed at his temples. He crumpled to the floor.

He had become the monster he so detested. How could he? How could he become what he so wanted to get rid of? His body rocked back and forth as the questions raced through his mind. He felt her hesitantly slip her arms around him and lay her head on his chest. He fell back upon her, turning so he could encircle her waist. He cried then, the tears streaming down his face and soaking her clothes. She ran a hand down his back in soothing motions. He told her about his father, about the pain he felt and the hatred. She listened patiently as he unraveled his life before her.

"I have become the man that I so detested," he said bitterly. "I have hurt . . . hurt the only one who really understood, really accepted me." He locked his eyes on her. "I hurt you."

Now tears were flowing down her face. She cradled his face in her hands and kissed him softly. He kissed her back hesitantly, but then forcefully. He felt her hot tears against his own face. He pulled away and wiped her tears away with his gloves. She smiled at him wistfully, and turned her gaze away. She was different now, older, but she was still his and he could see it in her eyes. And he realized that he was hers, all these years, though he'd denied it to himself and anyone else who'd questioned him.

He stood and extended his hand to hers. She took it gracefully and tucked her arm in his as they walked to the balcony. "I have lost," he said to her. It was such an odd thing for him to say, and he was surprised he wasn't ranting about it.

She smirked. "Lost what?"

"This planet. I haven't defeated you; you defeated me," he said, swallowing hard.

She smiled. "You've been talking to Trunks."

"Yeah," he muttered.

"He believes in me too much. I suppose he said he'd give you the world if you could defeat me."

"Exactly."

"Well," she said, stopping him and pulling on his clothes so that he faced her. "The way I see it, you still have this planet." She walked away from him a bit and turned her head so she could look at him. "You've certainly got me," she said coyly.

"That I do," he said softly. "That I do."


	11. Chapter 11

Fire and Ice  
By: Lehua

Disclaimer: DBZ is not mine, so I do not own these characters. This fic was originally posted on http://www.adimra. as a contest entrance for August 11, 2001. I didn't finish it on time so it wasn't voted on. The site has since stopped being updated, but there are some awesome stories on it.

Based on the Hawaiian Myth of 'Pele and Kamapua'a.'

**Chapter 11**

The next morning . . . .

Bulma ran her fingers through her hair as the sun filtered in through the curtained windows. Vegeta watched her, his arms crossed in the usual fashion. Something had been plaguing him for the past few hours, and he'd only figured out what now: how were they going to get out.

He walked up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. She smiled and covered his with her own. "Woman," he whispered in her ear. "How are we getting out?"

She frowned. "We could try walking out the door, but I don't think that would work. Trunks told you one of us would have to die, right?"

He nodded.

She sighed. "Well, technically, that's the only way to get out: you die."

He let go of her and started to pace the room. "He told me that you would have to die for me to be released. How were you figuring-" But he knew the answer. "You were going to die here," he stated simply.

She didn't turn to look at him. "Yes," she whispered. "I could live without you, I could stand living with others, and I couldn't kill myself."

He let the moment go by silently. "So, we're going to have to live here forever?"

She finally turned around to look at him. "Maybe not," she said, getting up from her seat and walking around the room, her fingers steepled. She stopped and looked at him. "My father may be able to get us out."

He looked at her skeptical. "Isn't your father dead?"

She pursed her lips together. "No, he's very much alive."

"And waiting for you to call on him," a man said, materializing out of thin air just as Kane usually did. He was a tall man, toned to perfection. He walked over to his daughter and placed his arm around her, smiling.

Vegeta shook his head and ran his hands over his eyes; this place was weird.

"Dad," Bulma whispered. She hugged him fiercely and then introduced Vegeta. They shook hands.

"Took you long enough," Olemu said to Vegeta.

"What do you mean?" Vegeta said, narrowing his eyes.

"I've been watching you. Let's just say you couldn't see Earth because you weren't ready to."

"Who are you?" Vegeta said.

"The Guardian of this planet, which is all you need to know," Olemu said simply. "Now," he said, clapping his hands together, "there's only one way to get you two out of here: something needs to be sacrificed."

"Dad, neither of us wants to die," Bulma said to her father.

He looked at her incredulous. "No one said anything about anyone dying."

"Then what are we to sacrifice?" she questioned him.

Olemu looked at Vegeta. "Are you willing to spend the rest of your life with her?"

Vegeta swallowed. "Y-yes."

"Are you sure?" Olemu pressed.

"Of course I'm sure," Vegeta snarled.

Olemu waved his hand. "Then so be it. Should you ever leave her, you will die."

And before anything could be said, Bulma and Vegeta were outside of the doors, staring dumbly at them.

"Woman, you're father is weird," he muttered loud enough for her to hear.

Bulma rolled her eyes. "What exactly do you think you are?"

He glared at her. "I am quite normal."

"Normal?" she said, spinning so she could look at him. "How is killing millions of people normal?"

He shut his mouth and crossed his arms. She smiled back at him smugly.

"Mother?" a voice said.

Bulma turned and saw Trunks. He eyes went wide. "Trunks!" she said. She ran to him and hugged him strongly.

"You got out," he said.

"Your father too," she replied.

Trunks stared at the man who was his father. "How'd he get out?"

"Oh, he just said he'd stay with me forever," she replied casually, walking over to Vegeta and putting her arms around his waist.

Vegeta growled softly in his throat. The woman was making a mockery of him. He would have to teach her a lesson . . . later.

**Pau.**

This is the original story with very few edits. The ending is not perfect, but I had spent quite a bit of time away from the story between chapters 9 and 10, so I had lost the vibe. I'm not going to redo the ending (as far as I know).


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